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Tate chose a window seat, and looked out at the countryside as it whizzed past.

Dixie (for that was the gray cat's name) thought for a moment. "You'll want to take the 11 AM train to Plat-de-Poissons, then catch the 2:15 to Bric-à-Brac," he said. "The Plat train leaves from the other side of the platform." "I'm most obliged to you," said Tate. "It's nothing," said Dixie, blinking slowly. "Glad to be of use. And do look out for several large dogs that live near the Plat-de-Poissons station."

The first leg of the trip was uneventful. Tate chose a window seat, and looked out at the countryside as it whizzed past. When the train reached Plat-de-Poissons, she stepped onto the platform, and saw the large dogs Dixie had told her about. They barked rather half-heartedly at her, and she didn't even bother to hiss in reply. The Bric-à-Brac train was ready to depart from the next platform, and she hurried to get on board.


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